


Think of her

by glorious_clio



Category: Star Wars
Genre: F/M, Some Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 16:36:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6996055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_clio/pseuds/glorious_clio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What do you think of her?”</p><p>“I’m trying not to, kid.”  </p><p>No really, he's trying so hard not to think about her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Think of her

She seemed like any other princess that Han had met. Except he hadn’t actually ever met any princesses. Rather, she seemed to fit in a box of what he decided a princess would be: spoiled, entitled, demanding. A mere _brat_.

She was good with a blaster though, and Chewie said she made a decent co-pilot during their dogfight, especially considering she had never stepped foot in the _Millennium Falcon_ before.

It rankled him when she was the one to put in the coordinates into the navi-computer. He hated flying blind. _Princesses_.  She was the same age as the kid, what could either of them possibly know about life?  

 

 

(Chewie laughed at him. Han had ten years on these kids they had picked up, but Chewie was ancient by anyone’s standard.)  

 

 

The full horror of what happened to Alderaan and to Leia didn’t hit him until later, after Luke blew up the Death Star.  She was the one putting medals on them, but really, he didn’t do much- shot a few blasters, covered Luke on his final run.  He didn’t really deserve it, didn’t deserve to have his bloodstripes upgraded from yellow to red.  Not when she stood up to torture at the hands of Darth Vader himself.  

And it hit him anew how _young_ she was. How young they both were, Luke and Leia.  And he felt so protective of them, and so hopeless about them.  (Shut up, Chewie.)  His bones seemed to creak with age, and his cynical heart felt even more poisoned than usual.

Nineteen. So pretty, so full of life, and always surrounded by a group of people. She drew people to her, like they were all moths and she was the bright flame of the rebellion.  

“So when are you going to join the Rebellion?” she asked, sitting next to him in the mess hall one day.

“I’m not,” he said gruffly. Chewie wasn’t there, and for once she wasn’t surrounded by her entourage.

“You’re doing a pretty good impression of one of us,” she observed. “Rescued the Princess.” She held up a finger.

“Luke’s idea.”

“Helped blow up the Death Star,” she said, another finger went up.

“Stop, Princess-”

“Have moved bases with us four times,” another finger, “and have been pretty instrumental in six battles and three minor skirmishes.” Two more fingers.  

“Yeah, but that-”

“And you’re still here,” she said. She dropped her fingers out of the air, picked up her fork.  

He didn’t say anything for a minute.  His mind was reeling and coming up blank.  

“Why are you here, Captain Solo?”

“You,” he blurted out.

She blushed, just a little, but he saw. She looked so small, hopeful, tired. Her hair was braided so tightly he wondered how she could stand it.  

“Me."

“I mean-” he scrambled wildly. “I mean, the reward or whatever. I figure if I play my cards right, I’ll end up with the crown jewels.” He was desperate to make a joke.

Her fork clattered down.  

“I see.”

There were rumors that she was an ice princess; Han suddenly felt like he got a full blast of it.  

“Well, I hate to disappoint you, Captain Solo,” she said, getting to her feet. She picked up her tray of food, leaving no trace of where she sat beside him. “But the crown jewels of Alderaan are no more.”

She had tears in her eyes; they didn’t fall. She marched out of the mess, dropping her tray at the return station on her way out.

Shit.

_Shit shit shit-_

Han tore after her, apologizing sheepishly in front of her entourage when he finally tracked her down. Leia nodded curtly at the apology and continued walking.

Mon Mothma raised her eyebrow and stared at Han for a moment before following her High Command to a no doubt top secret meeting.  

Fuck.

 

 

Chewie still made fun of him for staying, but he wasn’t in any great hurry to leave, either.

 

 

The next time he saw her by herself, she was lifting weights in the base’s small gym without a spotter. He didn’t normally work out, but he was bored and there were only so many times he could pick apart components in his cockpit, and no, that wasn’t a euphemism.

“Want a spotter?” he asked.

She shrugged. Her face was sweaty and red; flyaways from her braids were sticking to her face and he was glad he had an excuse to watch her form. He’d probably be doing it anyway.  She didn’t work out for much longer, and they didn’t speak. If he was surprised at how much weight she could lift, how many reps she could do, he was wise enough to keep his mouth shut.  

After the final rep, she put away her weights.  “Do you need a spotter?” she asked, ready to return the favor. She was wiping down the bar she was using, putting it away, not looking at him.

“No, I came in here to go for a run.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Well, enjoy yourself.” She turned for the showers.

“Hey, Princess?”

“What?” There was no mistaking the annoyance in her tone, but she looked him in the eye. He could tell she had closed him off, and he was one hundred percent sure he knew the reason why. But it was weird to know it.

“I- urgh. Nothing.”

She shrugged and marched off.

Spoiled, entitled, demanding. A mere _brat_.

Except he has seen her in battle, seen her laughing with Rogue Squadron, with her sister, Winter, talking seriously, working herself to the bone.  She was anything but spoiled, entitled, or demanding. Or young. She had seen too much to ever be called _young_ by anyone other than Chewbacca, maybe. She wasn’t even cold, not really. Just with him, actually.

He went for his run, hoping the repetition would push the thoughts of her clean out of his skull.

 

 

“Chewie stop, that’s not why we’re still here, it’s because of... something else. The kid would get killed without me here.”

 

Mon Mothma gave him orders to pilot the _Falcon_ to Ord Mantell so that Princess Leia and Commander Skywalker could run a covert mission. “Yours is the only ship without Rebellion markings at the moment.”

“Exactly,” Han said. “That’s because she doesn’t belong to your rebellion, and neither do I.”

Mon Mothma raised an eyebrow.  “I am commandeering your ship, Captain Solo. It is on my base. I am well within my rights to do so. I am not giving you an option on her use in this mission. I am giving you and Chewbacca the option to fly her.”

Han slammed a fist into his thigh.  

Her eyebrow lowered.  “I need an answer in the next five minutes so that I may alert another pair of pilots.”

“Fine,” he gritted out. “But don’t expect us to be happy about it.”

He left her office, muttering darkly under his breath.  

Chewie was back at the _Falcon_ and soon they were ready for takeoff.  The kid and the Princess were grudgingly welcomed aboard. Leia settled behind the pilot’s seat in the cockpit. Luke was bouncing around, helping where he could. Mostly just talking faster than the lightspeed they were traveling at.  Chewie took Luke out of the cockpit and the two of them made to play dejarik.

Leia stayed put, watching the stars flash in a blur past the windscreen.

“You gonna watch me the whole way to Ord Mantell?”

“I promise you this wasn’t my idea,” Leia said quietly. “So please, let’s just get this mission over with.”  

She sounded so resigned. Han sighed and spun his chair around. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to get you there and back as fast as possible. Then Chewie and I will get out of your very long pretty hair.”

She frowned, like she hadn’t even heard the compliment. “I don’t want you to leave,” she told him.  

His mouth opened and closed.  “What?”

“I never wanted you to leave,” she said. “You’ve said some stupid things, but you should stay. You should join our cause.”

“Yeah, see, that’s where I draw the line,” Han said.  

“Why? Can’t you commit?”

“It’s nothing to do with commitment,” Han said.  “I just don’t like signing my name over to people so they can order me around.”

“You’re a smuggler - don’t you do that all the time?”

“Those are short contracts. I’m talking about the line that says ‘for the duration.’”

“So you’ve read the paperwork.”

“Yeah, it looks a lot like the paperwork I signed when I was in the Imperial Navy.”

“Oh, I see,” Leia said. “You think we’ll treat you like cannon fodder, that you’ll be a number, deprived of... oh, let’s not go down that path.”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” Han said.

“Well, I think you already know how different we are on our bases.” She crossed her arms.  “But if you really don’t want to enlist, I’m confident that we can come to an arrangement. Would that be agreeable? I just can’t promise you a typical mercenary salary.”

Han Solo would be the one sucker to follow a penniless princess around.  

“If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. I’ll even run missions if you want. I just want to be able to leave when I want. Or when Chewie wants.”

Leia nodded. “Can we at least shake on it? Or is that too much of a commitment?”

Han reached an arm out and she shook it firmly, even warmly.

“It doesn’t shock you that I was in the Imperial Navy?” he asked.

“Please,” she said. “Half our fleet has deserted the Empire. I myself used to spend a lot of time with the Empire in the Senate. I’ll tell you a secret,” she leaned over and grinned, her lips were pink and shiny. “I can drink half of their COs under the table, and give the other half a run for their money.”

Han laughed. “I believe it.”

“Good. I was quite the party princess. Besides, it was easier to loosen their tongues and steal their secrets when they were drunk.”

“Remind me to never be drunk around you.”

“That sounds like a challenge, Captain Solo.”

“Please, it’s Han.”

“Very well, Han.” Her eyes glittered with mischief and he wanted to spill every secret he had, there and then, starting with the most obvious one.

 

He wanted to tell her, but he knew that just as he can’t commit to her rebellion, she won’t be able to commit to him and it killed him a little bit. He was caught in her orbit, she had to set the terms. He wasn’t used to waiting for someone to make up their mind, or to make a move.

 

Ord Mantell didn’t go according to plan. Or it did, until Han met up with Skorr, a notorious bounty hunter. He noticed Han and set a trap, capturing Leia and Luke and using them as bait. Lucky for Han that those two were quick on their feet, and the resulting dogfight was fast and left Skorr limping back to the Imperials.   

The only way to keep her safe was to leave, he had to deal with the price on his head. It took a certain amount of bravery, or stupidity, to face Jabba. He didn’t even know how much the bounty was for, but he couldn’t ask the Princess for the money. As if she needed another reason to hate him, to think less of him.

But even if he paid Jabba, he’d never ever be good enough for her.

He thought of her every moment, not quite wishing that circumstances were different. If she hadn’t been born a princess, he’d still be a smuggler with a price on his head, and her destiny would always be to lead a rebellion.

So after the move to Hoth, he told them that he was leaving, and the Princess turned to ice.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Hewoudve for betaing this so quickly! Any mistakes are my own!


End file.
